


Mugs and Magazines

by cocklesofmyheartt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Castiel and Dean need to use their words, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Is So Done, Some Humor, Trouble In Paradise, they fight and make up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28739055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocklesofmyheartt/pseuds/cocklesofmyheartt
Summary: Mugs are flying around the house and magazines are almost burning, which means that Dean and Cas are not doing well.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 27





	Mugs and Magazines

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Кружки и журналы](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/741900) by Мисс_Неадекват. 



In the silence, the lighter wheel chirps loudly. A small orange light dances steadily in the windless room.

"Don’t," Dean says, his voice ringing with tension.

"Or what?" Cas raises an eyebrow provocatively.

"Not the magazines! Don’t you dare!"

Cas narrows his eyes and slowly brings the lighter dangerously close to the porn magazine with an Asian girl on the cover.

"No!" Dean yells and strides forward, but when he meets Cas’s warning gaze, he stops in his tracks. "You’d better not…"

"Or what would you do, Dean?" Cas asks mockingly. "You’ve done enough already."

"For goddamn sake, I didn’t mean to break your mug!" Dean rolls his eyes in annoyance. "It just turned out to be at hand!"

"So you think it’s ok to throw dishes during a quarrel?"

Dean clenches his teeth until you can see his jaw muscles.

"I lost my temper, okay?" he breathes out. "I swear, if you touch this magazine, this old collection of Busty Asian Beauties, I’ll destroy anything you hold dear and kill everyone you love."

"Then you’ll have to throw yourself out of the window," Cas says tartly.

Dean looks him in the eye for several infinitely long seconds, then abruptly turns on his heels and heads towards the wall.

"What are you going to do?" Cas asks tensely.

Dean silently opens the window, sits on the sill, swinging his legs out into the street.

"Is that what you wanted?" he asks ironically. "Well, you get it."

"Dean!"

Dean pushes off the windowsill with his hands and jumps down. Cas lets go of the well-heated wheel of the lighter and puts the long-suffering magazine on the table, and then closes his eyes with his palm with an expression of endless suffering on his face.

"This is the first floor, Dean."

"You said to throw yourself out of the window, I did it. You didn’t specify the floor."

Dean shows the middle finger to Cas who has taken away a hand from his face and then struggles to climb back to the house, pulling himself up on his hands.

"Fine," Cas almost growls irritably and defiantly turns around, slurring over his shoulder as he goes. "You can throw yourself out again. You don’t live here anymore."

***

"He’s been living with me for two weeks now," Sam complains. "He empties the fridge so fast that I don’t have time to buy groceries that often. And he makes a mess everywhere and throws dirty clothes and porn magazines and leaves open the tabs with porn cartoons. Please," Sam’s gaze becomes pleading. "You have to talk with him."

Cas, methodically stirring pie dough in a deep bowl, shrugs.

"You lived with him before college," he says flatly. "And now you have the opportunity to live a little longer with him."

"It was a long time ago," Sam says, sounding genuinely horrified. "I won’t be able to stand him for long. Just talk to him."

"He broke my mug," Cas stops and pokes at Sam with a smeared spatula. "It’s unforgivable. He didn’t even apologize. Oh no, he doesn’t know how to say the word "sorry", he only knows how to shout back and pretend that it isn’t his fault. Let him apologize and then I’ll think about it."

Sam rubs his face and grabs his hair. His face shows clear disappointment.

"See," Cas says and pours the dough in a square bakery mold. "You yourself know that I always make the first step, but now he has crossed the line. If he thinks that he will get away with it all his life, he is wrong."

"Cas, but you’ve been married for four years," Sam says quietly. "You can’t part because of the mug."

"Because of the mug?" Cas asks incredulously and turns to Sam. "Because of the mug?" he repeats in an angry whisper. "We didn’t fight over the mug, but because Dean considered his opinion to be infallible and the only true one. You have to go. Right now."

Sam meekly gets up from the table and without even trying to say goodbye, slams the front door. Cas stares exhaustedly at the dough mold.

This marriage was initially too chaotic.

***

"I’m so fed up with you two!" Sam roars from the doorway.

Cas doesn’t even have time to react. Sam grabs him by the elbow and drags the man into the living room, pushing him onto the couch. Cas rubs his forearm, the younger Winchester has a tenacious and strong grip. Sam disappears in a hallway again while Cas tries to figure out what’s happening.

But when Sam draws a disheveled and aggressive looking Dean into the room, Cas instantly tenses and frowns. Sam pulls a chair out of the kitchen and puts it in front of the couch, then presses Dean’s shoulder, forcing him to sit down. Dean winces but does it, immediately spreading his legs wide and folding his arms on his chest, sticks out his lower jaw, and looks away with an extremely displeased face.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Cas asks evenly.

Sam stands aside and looks sternly at them, who sit opposite each other and thoroughly avoid eye contact.

"You’re acting like children," Sam says. "I’m sick of Dean walking all over me and turning our apartment with Jess into a heap of trash."

"Hey!"

"Shut up," Sam interrupts. "I don’t know what the two of you have been fighting about, but you’re going to talk about it right now and make it up. Clear?"

The only answer he gets is the ticking of the clock on the wall. Sam sighs deeply and patiently.

"Guys," he starts softly. "It’s okay to quarrel. But it’s not okay to leave after petty quarrels. You need to talk about it. It will help."

"It won’t help," Cas and Dean say in unison, look at each other with hostility, and immediately look away.

"Oh god."

Sam brings another chair and places it a little to the side between Cas and Dean. He sits down and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and locking his fingers.

"Okay, if you can’t talk to each other, you’ll talk to me," Sam clears his throat. "Listen, Jess and I fight too, and a lot. But usually, we solve these problems. Because this is what two people who love each other do."

"Have you changed your job and become a part-time family psychologist?" Dean snorts.

"You didn’t get married for nothing, right?" Sam ignores his banter.

"Oh yes," Dean says tartly, looking at his brother. "I guess I was too drunk when I said yes. The first time when he popped the question and the second time at the altar."

Cas freezes at such an obvious and extremely painful provocation. His mind understands that Dean is saying these hurtful words to trigger him, but anger rises in his chest in a sharp red flash, and his mouth opens before Cas can stop himself:

"Please accept my regrets for your disgusting choice of partner. I must have been out of my mind too, most likely because Balthazar had dumped me shortly before and I needed company, even if it was you."

Dean jerks as if he’s been punched in the face. His nostrils flare with anger. It’s a low blow, and they all know it.

"So now we’re going to mention Balthazar, aren’t we?" Dean asks bitterly. "Because he is the best man on Earth, who, what a pity, dumped your perfect and infallible ass?"

"Yes, we’re going to talk about him because he was a good partner, a little selfish but he considered me and respected me and my views, and didn’t proclaim himself the center of the universe!"

Dean jumps up and clenches his fists. Sam, who dumbfounded was watching the unfolding scene, also springs to his feet.

"I’ll fucking kill him!" Dean yells. Sam grabs his forearm, holding him in place.

"Woah, woah!" Sam raises his voice. "Calm down, you won’t touch Cas."

"Cas? The fuck?" roars Dean with a red face. "I will kill Balthazar!"

Sam surrenders. Cas can almost see the white flag through the veil of anger.

***

"What are you doing here?" Cas asks wearily.

Dean shrugs. He stands in the doorway in his rain-soaked jacket and with damp hair, the street lamp casting a yellowish glow on his face in the dark. Cas really doesn’t want his heart to sink with tenderness and longing, but he can’t stop it even if he wants to.

"Sam kicked me out. I mean, not now, almost a week ago," Dean says looking over Cas’s shoulder.

"And where did you live?"

"Got a motel room. A shitty place," Dean smirks. "These strained cries of whores at night do not help me sleep well."

They are silent for a long time. Dean sniffs and hides his hands in bulky pockets of his jacket. Cas looks at him and can hardly hold back the urge to step forward and hug him. They have never been apart for such a long time before, and Cas feels like a huge magnet draws him to Dean, despite their fight.

"Why did you come?" Cas asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Well," Dean sighs. "It’s been almost a month."

"And?"

"I’ve been thinking about my poor behavior," he mutters under his breath.

Cas could make him say it a couple more times, louder and more distinctive, to savor the moment when Dean Winchester admits his guilt standing on their doorstep, and does it sincerely, not for show. But Cas is not one of those vindictive people, at least not when it comes to Dean.

"Okay," Cas says flatly.

"Anyway…" Dean pauses and with an air of theatrical nonchalance, he pulls something large out of his pocket and shoves it into Cas’s hands.

Cas is completely lost. It’s a mug, his broken mug that became the last straw. Only now dark blue fragments are glued together with silvery glue at the fracture points, the handle is carefully attached to the place, and even the stupid inscription in white letters, worn out over time, is quite readable. "Angel by 51%, bitch by 49%" – Dean burst into a silly laugh when he saw it on the supermarket shelf and immediately threw it into the grocery basket, noting that it accurately characterizes Cas.

Cas looks up, confused, at Dean, who is standing there with a stone face.

"Oh…" Cas breathes out and can’t help smiling.

"Yeah," Dean rolls his eyes. "You kinda liked it."

Cas takes a step to the side. Dean blinks in disbelief, then smiles and walks into the house.

"But if one more time…" Cas begins, but Dean interrupts him.

"I’ll make dinner. Today and probably the whole next week."

"All right. And after dinner, I’ll give a collector’s edition of the 90s magazine that I accidentally bought five days ago."

Dean freezes. An uncertain smile appears on his lips, and it becomes wider and wider.

"It’s my fault too," Cas sighs. "I shouldn’t have said what I said."

"Yeah, you shouldn’t have," Dean confirms. "Let’s leave it behind?"

Cas strokes the glue-uneven surface of the mug and nods. Dean pulls off his jacket and heads to the kitchen, where he starts rattling the dishes loudly while Cas still looking at his present. No, they won’t discuss it. Dean is not the kind of person who likes to sort out his emotions out loud. But he glued the mug together. And he is making dinner. And, most likely, at night Cas will get something more than an empty cold half of the bed.

Well, a chaotic marriage isn’t always a bad thing, right? Especially if it’s a love marriage. So let the mugs fly around the house and the magazines burn.

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first translation. Ugh, I'm kinda nervous-


End file.
